


Brought to Light

by SassySnowperson (DramaticEntrance)



Series: ForceWhills [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: (tag brought to you by my beta), (who has very clear priorities), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotions That Keep Getting in the Way of Rough Sex, Hand Kisses, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Rough Sex, Some Physical Restraint, Threesome - M/M/M, Wrestling as Foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 08:52:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12553764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaticEntrance/pseuds/SassySnowperson
Summary: Baze has enjoyed watching Chirrut and Obi-Wan settle in with each other. After all, the whole thing was his idea. Chirrut was delighted by the arrangement, and Obi-Wan...Obi-Wan was trying. Still shy around Baze, but Baze was willing to be patient as Obi-Wan worked through the awkwardness of having a married lover. These things take time.But when Baze walks in on Obi-Wan naked, they finally get around figuring out who they are to each other. It turns out, they have more in common than either of them realized...





	1. Missing Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I dragged you all onto the Tiny Canoe of the Chirrut/Obi-Wan ship, now may I present the Even Smaller Coracle of the Baze/Obi-Wan ship. Please come hang out in my ship, you guys. I'm tired of paddling around alone. 
> 
> To be fair, I haven't been alone. Thanks to the incomparable [MissKatieLeigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misskatieleigh) for the beta, and for listening to me hash out the plot in the first place. [Aeshna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeshna/) also helped me work through a lot of the universe-building and story-structure questions, many thanks. 
> 
> And really, this fic is dedicated to the people who read Chirrut/Obi-Wan and enjoyed it enough to ask for more. Thank _YOU_. Hope this satisfies. 
> 
> Further discussion of the Rough Sex warning in the end note of Chapter 1.

* * *

Baze opened the door to his quarters, eyes nearly blurring with exhaustion. His back ached, his knees ached, but Alderaan’s guard were coming along nicely. A couple more months of training and they’d almost be paranoid enough to suit his tastes. But these night drills were taking a toll on his body. 

He really was too old for this. 

Door swinging shut behind him, he slowly made his way back to the bedroom, shedding his shoes, coat, and blaster as he went. He made it to the bedroom, didn’t bother turning on the light, and was midway through stripping off his shirt when his nose wrinkled. 

The scent of sex was heavy in the air, sweat and musk mingling. It wasn’t the first time Baze had walked into this particular cocktail, but it seemed fresher than usual. 

He finished taking off his shirt and stared at the bed, blinking as the shapes resolved themselves in the dim light. Sure enough, the familiar form of Chirrut was joined by the rapidly-growing-familiar shape of Obi-Wan. Chirrut was curled toward the edge of the bed, Obi-Wan wrapped around his back, legs tangled together under the blankets bunched around their waists. Obi-Wan’s head was tucked up against the back of Chirrut’s neck and their breaths were slow and steady.

Baze felt the right side of his mouth curl up as a wave of affection ran over him. He had been right. Chirrut and Obi-Wan were good together. Since the two of them had finally worked things out Obi-Wan had dropped formality after formality. He laughed, relaxed, he looked years younger. Whatever it was that haunted him finally seemed to give him some rest, as Obi-Wan gave himself permission to enjoy life again. 

Chirrut hadn’t needed any excuse to seize joy, but it was good for him to have a project. He got fidgety otherwise. 

Obi-Wan didn’t usually stick around their bed, though. Chirrut had spent a few nights over at Obi-Wan’s quarters, but despite Baze saying clearly that Obi-Wan was welcome in their room and in their bed, Obi-Wan had yet to actually stay the night. Baze suspected he had fallen asleep and forgotten to leave. It seemed unlikely that the first time Obi-Wan slept over he’d chose to do so naked and obviously postcoital. 

Well, neither Obi-Wan’s nakedness nor his forgetfulness could make Baze shy about his own bed. Baze shrugged out of his pants and socks and climbed into bed in his underwear. He settled down, mattress shifting under his weight. Baze settled in with a sigh of relief. He would say this for the Alderaanians, they knew how to make a nice mattress. 

Chirrut’s soft snores continued unabated. Baze wasn’t surprised. Chirrut always slept like the dead after a good orgasm. 

Between the attentions of both Baze and Obi-Wan, Chirrut had been sleeping very well lately. 

Obi-Wan, however, slowly shifted, beginning to stir. Baze paid him no mind, settling back on the bed. Either he’d wake or he wouldn’t. Baze stretched out on his back, reaching with his right hand to rub a knot on his left shoulder. 

He nearly had the knot figured out when Obi-Wan shifted again, untangling from Chirrut and flinging his arm out. He whacked Baze in the face. Not hard, but it was unexpected enough that Baze gave a small snort of surprise, breath gusting over Obi-Wan’s hand. Baze closed his eyes as he felt the hand pat over his nose, mouth, chin, shoulder. 

From next to him, there came a soft, “Oh,” and the hand was suddenly snatched back. 

Baze exhaled, and it was almost a laugh.

“Apologies,” Obi-Wan said, his voice quiet. Baze knew him well enough at this point to hear the formality creeping into his tone, masking his discomfort. 

“It’s fine,” Baze said. 

“I must have fallen asleep. Give me a moment, I’ll be on my way.”

“I’ve told you you’re welcome here. Meant it.” 

“Nevertheless, it’s a bit rude to edge you out of your own bed.” Obi-Wan shifted up onto his elbows, looking around, consternated expression crossing his face as he realized he was trapped. 

“Who’s getting edged? We’ve got space.” 

Obi-Wan looked around and laughed quietly. Baze could hear the strain in his voice. “Not quite enough. I’m pressed up against Chirrut, and I know how his elbows get during the evening.” 

Baze groaned. He was too tired to deal with Obi-Wan’s overly-polite panic. Baze slid closer to Obi-Wan, who froze, looking down at Baze. With what he hoped was a reassuring smile, Baze threaded an arm under Obi-Wan’s elbows. Obi-Wan’s breathing stuttered. Baze shuffled over again, crowding into his space. His eyes went wide with panic, and Baze said, “Shhh.” 

Then Baze _pulled_ , and with a soft yelp Obi-Wan went up and over him. Baze maneuvered the naked Jedi with a minimum of fuss, depositing him safely on Baze’s other side. They wound up on their sides, face-to-face, Obi-Wan blinking in surprise.

Baze gave a satisfied grunt. “I’ll manage the elbows. Years of experience.” 

Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder. Baze could see him ease as he realized he had a clear path to the edge of the bed. Still, Baze reached out and put a hand on his waist. “Meant what I said. You should sleep. Here.”

It was dark enough that Baze couldn't make out Obi-Wan's face clearly, but under his hand he could feel Obi-Wan relax. When he spoke again, his tone had changed; uncomfortable formality replaced with the wry humor that came out when he was more at ease. “I can’t help but notice I’m underdressed.” 

Baze gave a considering grunt, taking his hand off of Obi-Wan’s waist. “Least that’s easily fixed.” 

Baze stripped off his underwear, and tossed it over Obi-Wan, off the bed. Obi-Wan’s eyes went wide as he looked back at Baze. “That is _not_ what I meant to happen.” 

“You have a problem that it did?” 

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I—I don’t…”

Baze reached over and took Obi-Wan’s hand. “Look. If you want to go, then go. But if you want to stay, stop making up reasons you can’t. There’s no problem on our end.” 

Obi-Wan reached out with his other hand, grasping Baze’s much larger hand between his two. “Baze…” Obi-Wan pulled his hands forward, and brushed a kiss against the tips of Baze’s fingers. There was something profoundly intimate about the gesture. “Who are we to each other?” 

Baze closed his eyes for a moment. He was sore. And tired. This was not the best time to have this conversation. At the same time, he was lying down, stripped bare, his fingertips brushing another man's lips. If they didn't have the conversation now, Baze might never get another chance. Baze opened his eyes again.

“You're my husband's lover.” Baze said, starting with the obvious.

“That's who I am to Chirrut.” The words, by themselves, could be taken as an argument. But the way Obi-Wan traced lines against the back of Baze's hand spoke to a gentle curiosity more than a fight. 

“Yes. But I love Chirrut, and you make him very, very happy. So, before anything else, I'm grateful.”

“I...understand that. Chirrut makes me very, very happy as well. I know you prompted him to act. The gratitude goes both ways.”

“We're grateful. Not a bad place to start.”

“This feels like more than just gratitude, though.” Obi-Wan placed another soft kiss against Baze’s fingers, and Baze shivered. 

“It does.” Baze's voice went rough. “You and I...we're not locked on to each other the way you and Chirrut are.”

Obi-Wan made a considering noise. “I suppose you're right.” He started to let go of Baze's hand. 

Baze shifted, grabbing at one of the hands before they could escape entirely, and brought it over to his chest. “Doesn't mean I don't care. I like you. You’re nice to look at. That doesn’t hurt.” 

Baze felt Obi-Wan’s hand give a little twitch in his grip. After a deep breath Obi-Wan said, “That’s good to hear. I find you appealing as well.” Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “So. We are grateful. We like each other. Find each other attractive.” 

Baze nodded. “That’s about right. I’d enjoy sleeping with you too, if you wanted it.” 

Obi-Wan’s hand spasmed. “How...how do you just _say_ things like that?” 

“It’s true and I know myself.” 

“Clearly I need to work on my self-awareness.” 

“No shit.” Baze grumbled. He spread Obi-Wan’s fingers, lifted the hand to his mouth, and pressed a kiss to the palm. 

The simple gesture seemed to break Obi-Wan. He gasped, sudden and choked, fingers twitching in Baze’s hold. “Oh no. Stars.” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked and he said, anguished, “Reck.”

Baze furrowed his brow. Reck was an old name, one he hadn't gone by in…

Obi-Wan's other hand reached over, and rested on Baze’s temple.

* * *

* * *

Baze nursed his drink and watched his surroundings. People mingled, chatter and laughter filling the air. Most patrons moved in clusters, breaking off into pairs and merging into larger groups. Nobody seemed too inclined to cause trouble. 

Which was good. Baze had enough trouble with his work. He didn’t need trouble here. After all, he was supposed to be here to relax. To get out of his own head. The hotel room was too quiet, too much space for his thoughts to run wild. He had tried to sleep, but he still wasn’t sure how to sleep without the rustling of bodies nearby, the echo of people coming and going in the halls. Wasn’t certain how to sleep without one particular body pressed up next to him. 

It was time he learned. But not just yet. A bar full of strangers was a poor substitute for those he knew and loved, but enough people passing around him made him forget how hard it was to be alone. 

He wasn’t the only loner here. Girl in a booth reading a datapad, headphones in and body language screaming she wanted to be left alone. Iktotchi checking his chrono and the door, impatience starting to seep through his body language. Redhead sat by the bar, morosely hunched over his drink, playing with the straw.

Even if Baze had been inclined to find a bedwarmer, there didn’t seem to be many good options. It was fine, though. The noise pressing against his skin and the sound of voices around him were doing the job well enough for the moment. 

As Baze watched the redhead sighed, got up and moved across the room, heading for the door. Baze moved on, continuing his scan of the room. When he looked back the man had stalled. He seemed to be staring at…

Well, at him. It was an assessing sort of gaze, nearly a sizing-up. Baze met his eyes, quirked an eyebrow up, and raised his glass. 

The gentleman seemed to take that as an invitation, wandering over to his table. 

“Got a problem with me?” Baze asked as he got closer. 

The redhead coughed, seeming flustered. “Ah. No. Apologies for staring. I had just noticed you. Not too many people alone here.”

Baze snorted. That was almost a pickup line, except the delivery was awkwardly formal. The guy didn’t know what to do with his hands, all of his body stiff. If he was trying to pull, he was bad at it. Baze decided to find out more. “Could say the same for you. Come in, have one drink, leave.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Have you been watching me?” 

“Been watching everyone. Safer that way. You’re the first to watch back.”

“Yes, well, as you said. Safer.” They both went silent. The man turned away from Baze, looking out over the crowd. Without turning back, he gave a rueful little head tilt. “I seem to have lost my knack for smalltalk.” 

Baze ran his teeth over his bottom lip, oddly charmed by the overly-formal man who seemed to be trying his hardest. “Doing alright by me. I never saw the point. What are you drinking?” 

“Nothing,” the man said, still watching the mingling crowd, “I finished my drink.” 

Baze held back a laugh. Kriff. This guy was thick. Baze reached forward and prodded his shoulder, prompting the man to turn and face him. “That was an invitation, stranger. Sit if you want. Have a drink. One loner to another.” Baze raised his glass. “You can call me Reck.” 

“Wreck? What did you have to break to get a nickname like that?” 

_“How could you!? You took a vow. You pledged your life!”_

_“It needed doing. You can’t tell me you didn’t know that. Nobody else was going to. So I had to.”_

_“You have betrayed everything we stand for and you expect me to justify it?”_

Baze curled in around his glass, memories of accusations bitter on his tongue. After a moment, he forced himself to relax, to open up again. “Short for Reckoning. Though, I’ve broken enough things your interpretation is probably more appropriate.” Baze’s mouth twisted into a pained smile. 

“Destruction and justice all too often go hand in hand.” The man said, his own gaze turning distant. 

Something in Baze softened as he watched him. This was someone who knew pain. “Got that right. Doesn’t matter, though. We do the best we can, and the world makes of it what it will.”

What’s done was done. There was no changing the past. His faith was shattered and Chirrut hated him, but Baze knew he hadn’t been wrong. 

The man was returning Baze’s look, considering. He seemed to reach a decision, sliding into the seat across from Baze. “And what do you do?” 

Baze could respect his attempt at small talk, but he had picked the worst possible icebreaker. Still, might as well get it out in the open. “I kill people for money.” 

The man nodded, slowly. “That’s...interesting.” 

Baze couldn’t help the aborted laugh that escaped him. “You really are terrible at small talk.” 

A ghost of a smile played across the man’s face. “So, should I be worried?” 

“You’re the one that came over here, stranger. As far as I know there’s no price on your head.”

Even if there was, Baze likely wouldn’t take it. He had earned his nickname. The people he killed had it coming. It was possible the fussy redhead was hiding a dark secret, but Baze thought he was a pretty good judge of character, and he had a good feeling about this one. 

The redhead seemed to take that in, stalling for a moment. Eventually, the man said, “I’m Ben.” 

Fake. No judgement here, though. “Pleasure, Ben.” 

Ben caught the eye of a waiter. “Talaxiaan Brandy.” 

“Never could get the taste of that. Talaxiaans brew syrup more than alcohol.” Baze said, figuring he should make his own attempt at smalltalk, rather than watching Ben try and fail.

“Are you even old enough to be drinking?” Ben asked. 

Well, Baze had tried. After a moment, Ben’s eyes widened as he realized what he had asked. 

Baze decided to rub it in. “I _just_ told you I killed people for a living. How are you still alive?” 

Ben’s vaguely startled expression gradually receded. A sort of amusement played across his face. “Fair enough, my survival instincts could probably use some fine tuning. I can't be the first person to bring it up, though.”

Baze rolled his eyes. He’d thought that shaving his head would help. It hadn’t. Maybe he should grow a beard. He took another drink and decided to address the issue of age head-on. “Twenty-two, and I’ve seen enough shit to more than deserve a drink.” 

“The galaxy isn’t a kind place, these days.” 

“It never was.” 

“Ah, and you know that with your twenty-two whole years of life experience?” Ben leaned forward and grinned. 

Kriff. Where had he been hiding that smile? It could be weaponized. Baze fought to keep his face neutral. “I read.” 

Ben laughed and Baze felt his smile edge out despite his best efforts to stop it. Ben should give up on talking. Face like that, he didn’t need fine words. Baze was pretty sure Ben could get half the galaxy undressed with a grin and a well-applied wink. 

Baze knew which half of the galaxy he fell into. The night had suddenly gotten a great deal more interesting. 

As they continued talking, Baze was relieved to find out that Ben wasn’t only a pretty face. Once he got warmed up, it was evident that Ben was merely rusty in the conversational arts, not unskilled. He was warm and wry and clever, but with a self-deprecating streak that made Baze want to wrap him up and whisper adoration. 

Baze watched Ben, all sharp and bright and grinning, and had enough self-awareness to know that he didn’t like the man entirely for his own sake. There was a mold pressed into Baze’s heart that Ben fit better than most. Still, the fact that Ben was an echo of a voice Baze loved didn’t mean that Ben wasn’t lovely in his own right. 

Ben cracked a joke that hit him just right, and Baze started laughing like he hadn’t in a long time. It shook free from his belly, Baze pinching the bridge of his nose as he chortled. 

It felt good to laugh like that. He was lost in the moment and caught completely off-guard when Ben said, “I was wondering if you'd like to be a little less lonely this evening.”

Baze stopped laughing, dragged his hand down his face, covering his mouth as he considered Ben. There was a heat in Ben’s eyes as he leaned across the table. Baze felt that the offer was fairly clear, but considering how many times Ben had misread the conversational cues so far, he wanted to make certain. “You offering sex?”

Ben took a breath, and laid his hand out on the table, palm up. “Yes. If you're interested.”

Baze stared at him a moment longer. He hadn’t let himself have the luxury of a lover since he had left Chirrut. It was probably a bad idea to start with someone who kindled his memory so clearly. Baze drummed his fingers against the table. 

Fuck it. Ben was handsome and Baze was lonely. Baze lifted his hand and settled it into Ben’s. “Sure,” he said, “I've got a room.”

* * *

Baze showed Ben through the door to his room, heart pounding. Baze had never really taken a stranger to bed, and he was uncomfortably aware he was relying more on how he thought these things were supposed to go than any practical knowledge. As the door hissed shut behind them he turned toward Ben, preparing to offer him a drink. 

“Do y—” was as far as Baze got before Ben pivoted and jumped him. Baze’s shoulders hit the wall and lips were on his and he was so caught off-guard that all he could do was stand there awkwardly under Ben’s assault, hands limp at his sides and mouth slack under Ben’s lips.

Baze tried to pull himself together enough to figure out how he wanted to respond. Before he could actually _do_ anything Ben stepped back and away. His hands were clenched at his side and a vivid red slashed across his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I...I didn’t—” 

“Hey.” Baze reached forward and put his hand on Ben’s shoulder, doing his best to be gentle. 

Ben jerked away from the touch, looking angry and embarrassed all at the same time. Baze felt that old sense of protection rise in him. He wasn’t a Guardian any more, but the responsibility he felt to stand between people and things that might hurt them hadn’t gone away. He tried again, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just wasn’t expecting it.” 

“You clearly didn’t want—” Ben started to say. 

Baze gave up on gentleness, cutting Ben off before he could sink any further down into whatever shame he seemed to be drowning in right now. “Didn’t say that. I just need to know what you’re looking for.” He jabbed at Ben’s shoulder, an echo of the force Ben had used to push him against the wall. “You spoiling for a fight, Ben? Or are you hoping to find someone who will roll over for you?” 

“I do _not_ want anyone to roll over for me.” Ben said, and finally, his voice was free of that self-loathing that seemed to come over him. Frustration poured out in the words, they came out sharp, cracking. 

“Okay.” 

“I just want to have _one_ night, one _bloody_ night where I don’t need to control my tongue or mind my tone. I want to push and have somebody push back for once! I’m tired of feeling guilty _all the damn time_ ,” Ben finished, fists clenched, nearly shouting at Baze. 

Baze felt an anger rise in him, wanting to get his hands on whoever Ben was fighting with. There was an art to argument and part of that was recognizing that you couldn’t manage other people’s emotions. Baze carefully tamped that anger down. Ben seemed primed to detonate, and Baze wanted to make sure that the explosion was controlled. 

“Okay,” Baze said simply, hoping that Ben would share more. 

“No,” Ben said. All the anger and frustration sharpening his words blunted, and that damned self-recrimination swept over him again. “I shouldn’t have put that on you.” 

“You’re the one choosing to feel guilty. I’m fine. Pissed at whoever it is you're fighting with, they're fucking with your head.”

Ben sighed. “No, no, it’s not like that. I have a...brother.” 

Baze gave a faint smile. Figured. “A meaningful pause brother. I had one of those. Went much better after I gave in and fucked him.” 

Ben recoiled, eyes going wide. “No! That’s a horrible—he’s twelve and I’m responsible for him.” Ben continued to look faintly horrified. 

Baze took a step back, holding up his hands. “Apologies. Wrong sort of meaningful pause…” Baze tried to figure out where to take the conversation from there. “How long you been looking out for him now?”

“A little more than two years.” 

“So...where is the kid?” 

“He’s with someone else, I’m supposed to be enjoying my alone time, but…” Ben bit his lip, looking guilty and exhausted and confused all at the same time. 

Baze exhaled, rubbing at the back of his head. “First break in two years? No wonder you’re coming apart at the seams.” 

“I assure you I am—”

“If you tell me you’re always like this I’m going to get worried about you.” Baze cut him off, raising his eyebrows pointedly. Ben’s whole demeanor made more sense now. Too much time around a kid, not enough release valves to remember how to be a normal human. “So, you’re stressed right now. Maybe you have been for a while. You want to burn some of it off, fight with me like you can’t fight with him, hopefully get an orgasm out of the deal.” 

Ben looked down, away from Baze. “That sounds idiotic when it's put so plainly.” 

Baze stepped closer. “Sounds fun.” 

Ben’s eyes snapped back up to meet him, looking wary. The galaxy was full of problems Baze couldn’t solve and hard choices with no good outcomes. It was a pleasure to run into an issue that could be fixed with….well, pleasure. “You want me to throw you around a bit, rough you up, see who ends up on top?” 

Ben’s mouth fell open. “That’s...very blunt.” Ben’s eyes darkened and his mouth snapped shut. He swallowed hard, and his whole body leaned toward Baze. 

Baze felt himself grinning. It was nice to be wanted. “I’m very blunt. And game. Just needed to understand what I was getting into.” 

Ben looked at Baze, and there was heat and hope all tied together in the glance. Baze was taken back to the first time he had grabbed Chirrut, frustrated beyond all measure by his flirting and driven to plead, _“Stop. Stop if you don’t want this. I can’t stand teasing. Not from you.”_

Baze suddenly realized that while a rough tumble would go a long way toward helping Ben, it could burn him badly if he wasn’t careful. He caught Ben’s eye, paused to make certain he was paying attention. “Here’s what I need. I need you to stick around afterward. At least long enough to let me know you’re alright, not hurt. Body hurt or mind hurt. And if you are, let me try to fix it.”

“I don’t need you to look after me.” Ben stiffened, drawing away from Baze. “I have things handled.” 

For the love of— “Get over yourself. It’s not for you.” Baze shifted, trying to figure out how much to say, “I...recently left someone on bad terms. You remind me of him, some. Last thing I need is to be stuck wondering whether or not I’ve hurt you too.” 

“The meaningful pause brother?” 

_“You were the best of us! The best of me. What am I supposed to do? Traitor. Leave! I won’t beg you to stay. It’d be better for us all if you left.”_

“Yes.” 

Ben winced and his expression shifted. He stepped closer to Baze and laid a hand against his cheek. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me. And none of my business. Yes, I’ll stay and check in after.” 

The careful words and heat of a palm against his cheek felt like food after fasting. His life had been lacking in any sort of tenderness lately. Without thinking about it, he turned toward Ben and laid a soft kiss against the palm of his hand. Ben made a quiet noise, tremble running through his hand. Ben rested there a moment, savoring the comfort, before pulling himself together again. “Thank you.”

Enough talk. Time for action. “Come on, pretty boy. Let’s forget our problems for a bit.” He reached up and settled his hands by Ben’s neck, fingers skimming under the collar of his shirt.

Ben shivered and tipped his head back. When he spoke, his voice was thick with desire, “Yes.”

Baze smirked. He had skin against his fingertips and permission to cut loose. It was time to have some fun.

Baze shifted his hands away from Ben’s neck, tightened his grip along the line of Ben’s shoulders. He braced and shoved, and Ben hit the far wall hard. He chased the man’s trim body a moment later, pinning him against the wall with nothing more than the bulk of his own frame. Taking his example from Ben’s first kiss, he sought out Ben’s lips again, all fire, nothing gentle. 

Ben responded fiercely. Kiss full of teeth, Baze’s hands made their way down to Ben’s hips, then his thighs, lifting one of the man’s legs and wrapping it around his waist. This let Baze press even closer, but Ben took advantage of the movement and shifted down, striking back with his mouth, nipping his way down Baze’s neck and sucking hard against the pulse point. 

Baze felt a rumble start in his chest, strengthening as Ben sucked and dragged at skin. He grasped uselessly at Ben’s hips, spasming against him as Ben marked up his neck and chest. 

Somewhere around the collarbone, Ben started using his teeth, worrying at the skin. The sharp pleasure-pain became too much, the rumble crested and came out in a shout. Baze felt the need to get his hands and mouth on Ben’s _skin_. 

Baze stepped back, fingers tangled up in Ben’s shirt. He twisted and tugged, and much to his satisfaction a moment later the shirt jerked over Ben’s head and Ben stood there in front of him, torso bare. 

Of course he was all lean muscle, glistening skin, and taut pink nipples. Stars, that man was unfairly beautiful. 

And surprisingly clever. With a gleam in his eyes, Ben took advantage of Baze’s stunned state to dart forward. He got his fingers up under the collar of Baze’s jacket and had it halfway down his shoulders before Baze could even think to respond. Instead of doing the decent thing and pulling it all the way off, Ben did something complicated with his hand and the jacket tangled, dragging Baze’s arms closer together and throwing him off balance. 

Ben pressed his advantage, using his sudden leverage to drive Baze backward. Baze stumbled until his thighs slammed against the hotel desk, sweet sharp pain blooming as he was forced down. The desk gave a creak of protest, which didn’t seem to phase Ben in the slightest. He crowded in between Baze’s legs. He forced Baze’s thighs apart even as he pushed down with one hand to pin the jacket to the desk, tangling Baze’s hands behind him. 

Baze was trapped like that, bent open for Ben, awaiting his pleasure. Ben took it, forcing Baze’s head back and kissing him with stunning force. It felt the same as their first kiss, and was a relief to get another chance at responding, opening his mouth and letting Ben lick and bite his way in, trying to give as good as he got. 

Baze jolted as Ben’s free hand snaked its way up and under Baze’s shirt. Baze felt every sensation magnified by the awareness of how vulnerable he was right now. The touch thrilled him, fingers tracing against ribs until Ben found his right nipple and rubbed a rough circle over it. Baze’s breathing stuttered and he pressed his chest against Ben’s hand. Ben suddenly grabbed and pinched, sharp pain causing Baze to thrash against Ben. There wasn’t any give, Baze remained bent backward and Ben continued his assault. Baze started fighting in earnest against the hold on his hands. 

Ben kept him helpless and smarting for long moments, but Baze finally managed to wiggle a hand free. He jerked his own shirt up, tucking it under his chin. Then he tangled his fingers up around the back of Ben’s head and dragged the man’s mouth down, holding it against the nipple he had been neglecting. 

Ben quickly got the idea and sucked hard at the skin. Baze shuddered under the touch, the stinging pleasure going straight to his cock. Baze pressed his chest firmer against Ben’s mouth, and Ben used his teeth, latching on and rolling the nub between them. 

Baze groaned, deep and low. Some part of Ben must have enjoyed being handled, because his grip on Baze’s jacket had gotten lazy. Baze slipped his other arm free and decided to reward Ben for his dedicated attention. He slid his palm across the front of Ben’s thigh, palming the front of his pants. Baze felt more than heard the needy noise that erupted out of Ben, in time with a jerking thrust against his hand. 

Baze was struck by the desire to have Ben closer. He kept his palm firm around the back of Ben’s head and his legs curled around Ben’s thighs, trapping Ben against chest and hand. Ben never stopped mouthing at Baze’s chest, but he seemed to crave Baze’s hand. Ben was hard against his palm, and his hips moved in a mindless rutting. 

Baze knew, a curl of pride in his chest, that he could make Ben come like this, half-dressed and rocking desperately against him. Ben seemed to realize the same, a shattered noise wrenching out of him. He started pulling his head against Baze’s hand and his fingers started clawing their way down the back of Baze’s back. 

Baze quickly released Ben, worried he had pushed things too far. But it seemed like Ben had been enjoying the struggle, as he stumbled backward he groaned in discontent. His blue eyes were dark and seeking heat as he stepped forward again, moving to set himself back in Baze’s arms. 

Baze jumped off the desk before he could close the distance, stripping off his own shirt and undoing his belt. 

Ben watched him, stunned and hungry. His eyes traced across Baze’s chest, up to his face, his tiny smile evidence that he liked what he saw. As things slowed down, Baze was struck by the off-hand wish that Ben wanted tenderness. He would have liked to take Ben apart slowly, would have liked to stoke the fire between them from kindling, rather than dousing it with speeder fuel. 

Baze smiled back at Ben, unable to keep the gentleness he felt from his face entirely. “Would be a waste to get you this far and not actually enjoy your body.” 

Ben didn’t seem to mind, flush across his chest deepening as he began to remove the rest of his clothes with neat movements. 

Once they were both undressed, there was an awkward pause as they looked at each other. Baze stepped forward first and gave into that longing he had for gentleness. He took Ben’s face in his hand and kissed him slowly, enjoying the warmth between them. 

Ben stiffened and drew back. 

Fair enough. Kindness wasn’t what he had asked for, and clearly not what he wanted. Baze shook his head slightly, trying to get back into the fire of earlier. He let a wicked grin stretch across his face. “Well then, Ben, where were we?” 

Baze stepped close again, chasing Ben’s retreat. He got his hands around Ben, traced a firm line down his back, over his ass, and down his thighs. He sank to a crouch, his movements suggestive, head very nearly lining up with Ben’s cock. Ben twitched against him, excited by the way things were heading. 

Hopefully he wouldn’t be too disappointed. Instead of going down to his knees, Baze stopped and tightened his arms around Ben’s thighs. With a flex, Baze stood, Ben lifted off the ground. Ben’s noise of surprise grew louder as Baze, with no small amount of glee, flexed his muscles and _threw_ Ben across the small gap between him and the bed. Ben flailed for a split second before landing hard on the mattress, and Baze pounced after him. 

He took advantage of Ben’s disorientation to scramble on top of him, straddling him and pinning him to the bed with a bar arm across his chest. He kissed Ben again with force, leaving tenderness behind. Ben responded beautifully to the change in mood. His hips canted up and toward Baze as his hands scrabbled for purchase on the mattress next to him. Baze held him in place, granting him no leverage, and worked out any lingering frustration with bruising kisses against soft lips.

Ben’s hands came up, grabbing uselessly at Baze’s arm. His leg twisted around Baze’s, tangling them further together. Baze enjoyed the man’s struggle underneath him, confident that he had the upper hand. He’d let Ben find some release when he was ready. 

But then Ben pushed with one hand, pulled with another, flexed his hips and Baze felt his center of gravity shift to one side. Ben pushed in exactly the right way and Baze was helpless to prevent the rolling, winding up flat on his back. Ben wound up on top of him, triumphant smile on his face, and Baze remembered all over again why he had taken this particular man home with him. “You know what you’re doing.”

“I get by.” Ben’s eyes sparkled in delight as he leaned over, running his hands along Baze’s thighs, across his stomach, then leaned forward to kiss him. Baze hands ran up Ben’s side, in return, relaxing into the kiss. 

At least, relaxing for a moment, before doing his best to roll Ben over again. 

The wrestling match that followed was far more literal than the figurative struggle normally talked about when people started fucking. Ben was _fast_ , and had a wiry sort of strength. Ben could break his holds and Baze wasn’t expecting that, had to think on his feet to adapt. Fortunately, Baze had trained since he was four years old against a smaller opponent crafted of muscle and pure force of will. It didn’t take long to readjust his expectations. 

And, kriff, when he was able to anticipate Ben’s next move, filling the space before he got there, the stunned respect on Ben’s face made the whole night worth it. 

Baze pounced and Ben barely managed to shift out of the way, Baze still managing to trap one of his hands under his weight. Instead of tugging away, Ben rolled closer, putting his body on top of Baze’s, using his free hand to pin Baze’s far arm against his back. Ben tugged at his free hand, but Baze managed to keep it under him. He couldn’t, however, keep Ben’s fingers from finding his cock and figuring out exactly how much Baze was enjoying their tumble. 

Baze wasn’t too fussed with embarrassment. After all, with Ben stretched out on top of him, it would have been impossible to miss the fact that Ben was durasteel hard, his cock digging in to Baze’s left thigh. 

Ben seemed to decide that the time for straight fighting was over, and his fingers wrapped around Baze’s cock. After that build-up, touch was ecstasy, fight burning out of Baze and replaced by longing. He melted against the grip, gasping against the pillows. 

“Look at how much you want this.” Ben said, and those cunning fingers tightened, thumb circling in counterpoint. He started moving his hand up and down Baze’s shaft, jerking him off with quick strokes. 

It was fast and rough, precome the only lubricant, but the edge of sharpness felt right for the moment. Besides, Baze was too far gone to care. He cried out against the pillows, hips thrusting in counterpoint to Ben’s strokes. 

Ben dropped his grip on Baze’s arm, shifted his free hand to Baze’s waist. Baze let Ben lead him, hips rising off the bed, and his ass settling against Obi-Wan’s cock. For a moment, Baze tensed, worried that Ben might try to take him dry. But Ben shushed him and ran a soothing thumb back and forth across his hip. Ben lined up between his thighs and pushed through, cock dragging along Baze’s balls. Baze groaned, relaxing against the pillow again. This was rough, but manageable, discomfort along with pleasure. 

Ben pounded against him, slicker with ever drag as he leaked. He seemed hungry for Baze, insatiable, fingers no doubt leaving bruises against his waist, hand twisting around his cock, and hips driving against his ass. Baze felt like he was choking on sensation, having trouble breathing as the pleasure rose and overwhelmed any pain. Baze yielded to Ben, thighs trembling and soft grunts escaping, until the sensations overwhelmed him entirely. 

Baze came with a shout. Ben slowed almost immediately, hand on his cock suddenly gentle, pulling him through the orgasm. Baze melted against the bed, thoughts slow and satisfied, but still aware of the heat between his thighs. He didn’t have much left, but he still wanted to feel Ben fall apart. He pushed his hips back against Ben. “Come on.” 

Ben shifted his hold, two hands now on Baze’s waist, then picked up the pace again, holding him in place as he drove faster and faster against Baze’s body. Caught up in the afterglow, Baze only managed to make soft noises of encouragement, reveling in the satisfaction seeping through his body as Ben finally let himself go. 

Ben came silently, muscles taut and fingers still straining around hipbones as his cock pulsed between Baze’s thighs. All at once, the tension seemed to snap and Ben collapsed with a gasp, trembling arms caging Baze on either side. 

Baze turned underneath him, looking up to find Ben looking back down at him, eyes glazed over. Baze reached up, one hand settling along Ben’s neck, another at the small of his back. He gently tugged Ben down onto his stomach. Ben went, not seeming to mind the mess of come smeared together there now, shivering against Baze’s skin. 

Now, finally, Baze had leave to be gentle. He started combing his fingers through the reddish hair, letting his other hand stroke along Ben’s back. Ben stayed relaxed under the touch, if anything easing further against him. Baze slid his hand up, across Ben’s shoulder, grabbing his hand. Baze carefully spread Ben’s fingers and lifted the hand to his mouth. He pressed a lingering kiss against the palm of Ben’s hand. 

Ben pressed his face against the skin of Baze’s chest and shuddered. Baze felt a wave of protection roll over him again. He suspected that Ben didn’t let himself relax all that often. Who knows how long it had been since he had let someone else take care of him?

Who was taking care of Chirrut, now? 

Baze pushed that thought to the side, focusing back on the man currently in his bed. He couldn’t do a thing about Chirrut. Ben, on the other hand...“How are you doing?” 

“I’m doing well.” Ben said, voice hoarse from the shouting earlier. 

“Good.” Baze held Ben’s hand, tangling their fingers together and tucking them up against his chest. Time went fuzzy as they lay, hand in hand, Ben breathing in time with Baze’s deep, steady breaths. Baze relaxed into the moment, nuzzling against the top of Ben’s head. 

Eventually Baze felt Ben start to get twitchy, shifting his legs and stretching. Baze pulled back, sensing the moment was coming to an end. He asked, “Was that enough of a fight for you? Because I’ll probably need to take a nap if you want another round.” 

Ben shifted then, to Baze’s surprise not rolling away. Instead, he pushed himself more solidly on top of Baze, chest to chest, elbows on either side of him, legs stretched out between Baze’s. Ben kissed Baze’s sternum before propping his chin up on his hands. “Not sure I have another round in me. I'm not that young.”

Baze brought his arms up, resting his hands at the base of Ben’s back. “You're not that old, either. But looking after a kid will do that, I guess. How'd you end up in charge of him anyway?”

The orgasm seemed to have stripped away most of Ben’s filters and a complicated rush of emotions played across his face before he spoke. “The...person who was supposed to care for him died. He asked me to watch over him instead. I’m…” Ben took in a shaky breath. “I’m doing my best, but I’m…,” Ben’s voice cracked and he looked down. “I’m failing.” 

Baze tightened his hands in a quick reassuring hug. “I doubt it. You care.” 

“You can care and still hurt someone.” 

Chirrut had raged, Chirrut had cried, and Baze hadn’t been able to comfort him, because he was the one that caused the pain. He loved Chirrut more than life itself. It didn’t change a thing. 

Baze came back to himself and realized that he had gone stiff, dimly aware that he had stopped breathing as well. Ben made a concerned noise, pushing himself further up on his elbows. Baze forced air back into his lungs, forced himself away from that moment. On the exhale he said, “True enough.” 

Ben winced. “Apparently my ability to pillow-talk has also left me. I’m sorry.” 

Baze tipped his head back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. “No. You’re right. Sometimes things are bigger than you can fix. They go wrong and there’s not a damn thing you can do.” Baze lifted his head back up, looking at Ben. “Somehow doubt that’s what’s going on with you and the kid, though.” 

“It feels like it, sometimes. I don’t—there are so many more qualified. But none of them were willing.” 

Baze swallowed around the lump in his throat. He tightened his grip on Ben and rolled slowly onto his side. Ben slid off of him, and they wound up face to face, Baze’s hand on Ben’s hip. “Listen. I think you need to hear this. But I don’t talk about it, so it’s going to take me a minute.” 

Ben nodded slowly, and Baze took a breath, trying to gather his thoughts. “There was a man, and he killed children. He did it because he was rich and the children were poor and he thought that nobody would care. And while that was his worst crime, it was far from the only one.” 

Ben settled in, tucking an arm under his head as he listened to Baze.

Baze tried to keep his words level and clear. “This man, he finally pissed off someone rich, and he was going to be held accountable for some fraction of his sins. But he fled. He found holy ground and threw himself on it, swore to live out his days in quiet servitude. And the temple, which by tradition welcomed the penitent, let him stay.”

“And you took a contract to kill him,” Ben finished. “Noble, I’m sure, but I’m not certain how this applies—”

“I was a Guardian,” Baze’s attempt at control broke, and his voice went rough, words feeling thick with the weight of memory, “raised by the temple and trained to keep those within its walls safe.” 

“Oh,” Ben said. He reached out a hand and took Baze’s. Baze squeezed back softly.

“I found out about the man’s crimes. We all did. And it bothered us, certainly, but we served a calling, and that meant faith.” Baze gave a sad smile. “I was once considered devout. But it turned out, a faith that let a child-killer walk free was a faith that I was more than willing to break. I killed him, Ben. Quick and quiet, in the night, and I destroyed the body afterward.” 

“I can’t say I fault you.” 

“I know what I did was right. Still, I shouldn’t have been his executioner. Law enforcement should have caught him the first time he killed a child. Or the second. Or the third. When he was caught, he should have been held. When he fled, he should have been found. When he begged for clemency, he should not have been granted it. When his crimes were made public, his sanctuary should have been revoked.” 

Baze looked away, licking his lips, before looking back. “There were thousands more qualified to bring him to justice than me. But I was willing.” 

Baze met Ben’s gaze, made sure he was paying attention. “This is the truth, Ben, there’s no better person, no greater power. There’s no one but us, and the best choices we can make.” 

Ben grunted like something had hit him. HIs eyes slid closed, something pained flicking across his face. For a long moment, he was silent, before finally saying, “I wish there were another.” 

“You can walk away, Ben. But that doesn’t mean there’s going to be someone to take your place.” 

Ben opened his eyes again. “There’s no walking away. I couldn’t live with myself.” 

Baze pulled Ben's hand up to his mouth and brushed a kiss over his knuckles. “Then you have to live with the choice.” 

“I will.” The moment hung between them. With a slight sigh, Ben sat up in bed. He reached over and settled his palm against Baze’s cheek. “Thank you, Reck. It was good to relax for a bit. And you've been far more helpful than I ever expected a one-night-stand to be.”

Baze felt a heavy weight settle in his chest. Ben would be leaving soon, then. Baze’s instincts ran in all the wrong directions. He wanted to tug Ben closer, invite him to stay, keep him close, even meet the kid. But he was Reck now. He was itinerant, an assassin, and there wasn't room in his life for the sort of intimacy he craved. 

But, brief or not, Ben had been pleasant and meaningful. Baze shoved aside his wistfulness to send him on his way well. He brought his hand up and covered Ben’s “It was my pleasure. Literally.”

Ben groaned at the joke, but he also pulled Baze in for another kiss, so Baze decided to call that one a win. 

Baze cleared his throat. “I'm shipping out in the morning, but you're welcome to stay the night. I'd be glad of the company.”

Ben shook his head and swung his feet over the side of the bed. “I should be on my way. Thank you, again.” 

Baze ignored the lump in his throat. “Of course. ‘Fresher’s yours, if you need it.” 

“My thanks.” 

Baze rolled over and pretended to sleep, as Ben used the ‘fresher. Bare feet padded out of the ‘fresher, stopped by the bedside. Lips brushed across his forehead, and footsteps padded away again. 

The door hissed open, then it closed, then the room was quiet. Then and only then, in the silence of a lonely room, did Baze let himself cry, mourning the life he’d given up to see justice done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rough Sex warning: Obi-Wan and Baze engage in consensual rough sex. However, they are not great at talking about boundaries, and there is some concern that they may have pushed too far. This winds up not being the case. The sex involves using bodies and clothing to pin each other down.


	2. Coming Home

* * *

Baze’s eyes widened as he stared at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan still looked horrified. His hand at Baze’s temple was shaking slightly. 

Baze tried and failed to speak. He reached up, grabbed Obi-Wan’s shaking hand, and held it. He tried again. “I...you...Ben?” 

“Yes.” Obi-Wan said, soft and heartbroken.

“You...I haven’t thought about that in _decades_. Did you...did you make me forget?” 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and looked like he was in tremendous pain. “Not that time.”

“Not that...how many times, Obi-Wan? Did you get into the habit of fucking me, wiping me, then meeting me again for the first time?” 

“No.” Obi-Wan’s eyes widened, his hands came out in front of him, pleading. His voice cracked. “Twice. Only twice. Once I blocked off the memories I left you alone. I swear, I didn’t know it was you until rig—”

“What happened the second time, _Ben_?” Baze’s eyes narrowed.

“You can remember now. All the blocks are gone. We were at Genon.”

* * *

* * *

This wasn’t the easiest job Baze had ever taken. 

Kill a Hutt. That was a tall order in and of itself. Kill a Hutt who lived on his a fortress of solitude on an uninhabited planet. Sure, fine, Baze could find a way in. Kill a Hutt, in his fortress, while trying to avoid the Republic ambassador who for some kriffing reason had rolled up and was walking around like he owned the place. 

Baze suspected he was not getting paid enough for this job. And that was before the Pyke syndicate decided to make a run on the place, blasting up Grappa the Hutt’s forces and the fancy Republic shuttle at the same time. 

Still, if Baze could get a line on Grappa before he crawled into lockdown he might be able to salvage the mission. If he played it right, the forces could even cover his escape. 

Of course, that was before the blasted ambassador started waving a glowing sword around. Jedi. Figured. 

Baze stopped his careful shuffle from one vantage point from another to brace his blaster on a likely ledge and get a better look at what was going on. The Jedi took out a fivestrong squad of the Pyke gangsters without breaking a sweat, but another squad was coming up behind him and reinforcements were pouring in on speeders. 

For a moment, Baze considered just leaving the man to his fighting and getting on with his mission. But…

Baze hadn’t darkened the doors of the temple in more than a decade, but there were some things he hadn’t managed to shake, habits etched into his bones. Respect for those that the Force sang through was one of them. Not letting one guy get beat up by countless others was another. 

Grumbling, Baze hefted his blaster rifle tighter against his shoulder and watched the field. 

The Jedi seemed to be fighting his way over to the landing pad. He likely needed a ride out, his shuttle was now a charred wreck. That wasn’t an easy path, though, reinforcements were landing on the pad, anything that took off from there was going to get shot down in seconds. 

The Jedi seemed to realize the same, stalling in a courtyard and setting his back against the wall. He made a tight defense with his saber, but gangsters with guns were starting to set up on balconies. It didn’t matter how good Jedi Boy was, handling melee and ranged combat at the same time was a nightmare of a situation.

The action was over five hundred meters away from him, even through his scope they didn’t seem to be much more than tiny blurs moving around. Tricky shooting. Baze felt a tiny curl of anticipation move through him. Good. It had been too long since he had a challenge. 

Inhale, exhale, hold, shoot. 

One down. 

Shift, shoot. 

Two down. 

Inhale. 

By the time the balcony was clear, the Jedi had his cluster of gangsters handled and had noticed something was going on. Baze couldn’t see him clearly enough to know where he was looking, but the Jedi was plainly searching for something. 

Baze pulled out his comm, sending out short static bursts as he paged through channels. Eventually, the Jedi jumped at one of them, and Baze put his comm up to his mouth. “Come in, Jedi.” 

Through his scope, the sword powered down and the Jedi brought something up to his mouth. 

“This is General Kenobi, report,” came hissing through his comm.

“You’re in a tight spot. Forty more on the landing pad, easy, and they’ve got control of the guns. Your best bet is to get out, over the walls, quiet. I can arrange a pickup.” 

Kenobi was quiet for a second, then Baze’s comm fuzzed on again. “You’re not one of mine. Who are you?” 

“The guy with the sniper rifle and the escape plan. You want to argue, or you want to get out of here with your skin intact?” 

“Hello Guy With a Sniper Rifle and the Escape Plan. Pleasure to meet you. You’ll have to excuse my poor manners, it’s just, there’s no _bloody_ reason you should exist.” 

Baze chuckled, toggling his comm again. “Don’t you believe in the working of the Force? Blame that.” 

“The Force doesn’t send cryptic snipers to solve problems.” 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Friend. It moves in mysterious ways. Squad of eight is going to break through the eastern entrance. You go out the west, I’ll lay down cover fire.” 

Even as Kenobi moved to follow Baze’s instructions, he grumbled, “I can’t help but note this is moving me further away from the landing pad.” 

“Closer to the outside wall. Get over that, I can get you in my speeder.”

“Wait.Your plan is for me to leave the safety of Grappa’s fortress to throw myself on the harsh desert floor, based on the promise that the mysterious voice in my comm is going to pick me up?”

“Yep.” 

“I want it known that I do not like your plans.”

“Got a camp, we can lie low until whatever this is blows over. They’re not here for you, but you’ll get caught in the crossfire,” Baze continued. “You’ll meet less resistance if you can use the balconies for movement.” 

The Jedi jumped up to the balconies, at the same time grumbling, “Oh, the plan expands to include going to a secluded place alone with someone only known to me as Guy With a Sniper Rifle and the Escape Plan. I’m certain this will go very well.” 

“You’ve got your flashlight, you’ll be fine.” Baze was surprised to find he was grinning. He liked this guy. 

“My flash—I really do not like you at all.” 

“Let me shoot a few more guys off your back. See if you warm up.” 

Baze watched the Jedi’s progress, keeping both Grappa’s forces and the Pyke invaders bottled in chokepoints as best he could. 

“Could we perhaps not kill my host’s forces? This is going to make further negotiation more difficult.” 

“No. Your host’s forces are shooting you, and I’m invested in keeping you around at this point.” 

“I hesitate to point this out, but you have known me for all of two minutes,” Kenobi said as he flipped from one balcony to another.

Baze took a shot, then muttered into the comm, “Showoff.” 

“Oh, you’re one to talk. ‘Yes, I’m going to rain death out of nowhere while I harass an innocent Republic negotiator.’” 

“Beginning to think you don’t want me to save you.” 

“You are not saving me. You are assisting m—uh.” Green flashed and Kenobi stumbled. 

“Shit.” Baze took a hasty shot, missed, steadied himself and killed the gunner that had popped up out of nowhere. “You okay? Talk to me.” 

“I’ve had worse.” Kenobi’s voice was strained, but after a second he started moving again. 

“Can you still make it to the wall?” 

“Of course,” Kenobi snapped, each word punctuated. 

“Relax,” Baze said in return, “Just trying to figure out if I need to change the evac plan. I’ll drag your ass out of there if I have to, but I’d rather stay clear.” 

“You’re too kind.” Kenobi reached the end of the balconies, seeming to sway as he paused there. “If I have your position right, you won’t be able to see me here in a minute.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Straight shot to the wall...I suppose now is the time to figure out exactly how much I trust you.” 

“No. Figure out whether you think you’ve got a better odds against one sniper, or trying to fight your way wounded through eighty-odd gangsters that want to kill you, and a whole lot more that don’t particularly care whether or not you live or die.” Baze hefted himself back to his feet, tucking his blaster along his back. 

“Well, when you put it like that…” Kenobi took a labored breath. “You’ll meet me outside the fortress?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it. Got a bacta patch with your name on it.”

* * *

By the time Baze picked up the Jedi, he was listing to the side, hand curved around his own bicep. His mouth and nose were tucked up under his robe to protect from the sand whipping around. 

The wind blurred the lines between ground and air, stinging bits of dirt whirling around them. Best to get him out of the dust as soon as possible, he didn’t have the benefit of Baze’s filtration mask and goggles and the sand couldn’t be helping his injury. Baze gestured him on to the swoop bike. After a moment of hesitation the Jedi climbed on, wrapping his good arm around Baze’s middle. 

Baze gunned the swoop bike, and before long they pulled up at the small freighter Baze had left. Baze stalled the bike and hopped off. 

“So, this is _your_ sand dune then? Lovely camp.” 

Baze rolled his eyes, invisible behind the goggles, and pulled up one corner of the camouflage tarp. The whole of the thick cloth gave a shimmer, revealing the large shape under it. He gestured at Kenobi, who walked the swoop bike under the tarp. 

Once under cover, the howling wind and sand had abated. Baze popped the ramp of the freighter and walked inside. He unstrapped the goggles and unwound the mask, turning around to find…

A very familiar looking face. 

“I feel like I know you from so….oh.” Kenobi started, before he choked off, eyes widening.

“Ben. You’re a Jedi.” Baze looked at Ben—Kenobi. 

He had had a one-night stand with Jedi. Had pinned one of the Republic’s best and brightest to a wall. Had the cock of the Force’s chosen sliding between his thighs. 

“Medkit,” Baze finally said, turning away. 

There was a hand on his shoulder a moment later. “Reck? I...that is you, right?”

Baze stopped and sighed. “Still me. Been a while. Surprised you remembered.”

Kenobi coughed. “You are memorable. Besides. You haven’t changed that much. Finally grew into your ears, though.” 

Baze turned around, arching an eyebrow. “Can’t believe I slept with you. How did you talk me into bed?” 

Kenobi grinned at him and Baze abruptly remembered it hadn’t been the talking. 

He pressed his lips together. “We need to see to your arm.” The words came out just slightly faster than they normally would. Most people wouldn’t catch the fact that Baze was flustered. Kenobi grinned a little wider. 

Damn Jedi. 

Baze went into the cockpit, found the medkit, and returned to find Kenobi pulling the bits of burned robe away from his injury and wincing. He looked up at Baze. “This is going to sting.” 

Baze grunted in affirmation. “Robe and tunic off, it’ll be easier that way.” 

Kenobi actually hesitated for a moment, hands going to his belt and pausing. Baze couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Not like I haven’t seen it before.” 

“Yes, well, that’s actually making things more awkward, not less,” Kenobi said, finally starting to undo his robe. 

“Don’t worry, Not looking for a repeat performance. Just want to make sure you don't get infected.”

“I know that, I—” Kenobi cut himself off. “Nevermind.” Kenobi started undoing his robe. He continued, softer. “I don't actually pick up young men in bars all that often. You stand out in my memory. It's simply a bit of a shock to run into you again.”

Baze felt something twist in his chest. He had largely given up on casual sex in the last decade. Which meant he had largely given up on sex. Maybe every other year, he'd find someone and enjoy some stress relief. Rest of the time, his hand worked well enough. Ben held a special place in his memory, the tightly wound man that reminded him so much of Chirrut. “You stand out too. It was a good night.”

Kenobi got his robe and tunic off, wincing as some stuck to his arms. Baze kept himself focused on the injury, cleaning it out and applying bacta. Still, it would have been impossible to miss the fact that Kenobi had aged well.

Baze cast about for a change in topic. “So, B—Kenobi, what short straw did you draw that you're stuck negotiating with a gangster?”

“You can still call me Ben, if you want. Or Obi-Wan. Which is, well, my actual first name. Kenobi seems too formal. For us.” 

There shouldn’t be an ‘us’ for two men who had hooked up in a bar a decade ago. But there was. Baze couldn’t deny it. 

“Okay, Obi-Wan. Question still stands.” 

“I volunteered.” 

“That seems dumb.” 

“Don’t know if you noticed, but there’s a war on. Grappa has forces that could be used effectively against the Separatists, blockading some major supply lines in the region. I’m trying to convince him it would be wise to do so, lucrative for him, too.” 

Baze grunted an affirmation, fussing with Obi-Wan’s arm. 

The silence stretched between them. Baze wondered when Obi-Wan would think of the obvious question.

“Reck?” Obi-Wan finally said. 

“Yeah?” 

“Why are _you_ here?” 

“Separatists are worried Grappa’s going to jump in on the side of the Republic, they hired me to assassinate him,” Baze said cheerfully. 

Baze would treasure the look Obi-Wan gave him for a long time. 

“You’re a Separatist?” Obi-Wan finally spluttered. 

Baze huffed. “I’m not anything. Separatists hired me. Grappa’s bad news, runs most of the slaves in this region.”

“Needs must.” Obi-Wan’s hands had curled up into fists and he looked away from Baze. 

Baze wondered of Obi-Wan was ashamed? Conflicted? He should be. There was a cost to doing business with people like Grappa, and people like Obi-Wan were never going to be the ones who paid it. “Not for me.” 

Obi-Wan looked like he was going to say something, but instead he sighed, hands uncurling. “So. This is an impasse. Where do we go from here?”

“This doesn’t need to be a problem. You talk to him, I’ll kill him later.” 

“I’m fairly certain that violates some laws of negotiation. And rather defeats the purpose of my visit.” 

“Then don’t talk to him.” Baze shrugged.

Obi-wan pulled back, raising his eyebrows. “We’re not considering the scenario where you don’t kill him?” 

“Okay. I won’t kill him.” Baze reached into the medkit and started looking for a bandage.

“You are aware that I can sense when you’re being deceitful, right?” 

“That’s why I didn’t offer it from the start.” Baze pulled out the bandage, held it up. “We don’t need to figure this out right now. Let’s just get you patched up, wait for the Pyke to roll through.” 

Obi-Wan regarded him for a long moment. Then he sighed, muttered, “Fine,” and moved back toward Baze. “Maybe they’ll kill him. Resolve this whole issue for us.”

“We can only hope.” Baze offered a half-smile to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan’s warm answering smile caused something slow and bright to burn in his stomach. 

Baze ran his teeth over his bottom lip as he carefully tied the bandage around Obi-Wan’s arm. “Better?” he asked, voice coming out rougher and lower than it should have. 

Obi-Wan flexed his arm and rotated his shoulder. “Yes.”

Baze found himself touching Obi-Wan's shoulder above the wound, fingers brushing a puckered white scar at the end of his collarbone. 

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrow and looked from Baze's face to his fingers, then back to his face.

Baze felt heat across his cheeks and he pulled his hand away. “New scars.” 

Kenobi reached his own arm up, brushing the mark. “Yes. I’ve picked up a few of them.” 

“You’re not the only one,” Baze said, stepping back. “Though, hopefully this won’t be one of them. Think we got to it in time.” 

Obi-Wan reached forward and took Baze’s hand. The warmth in his stomach grew, expanded up the back of his ribcage and settled in around his heart. 

“My thanks,” Obi-Wan said, “I know I'd be in worse shape if you hadn't been there.”

“Well,” Baze cleared his throat, “what are one night stands good for if they don't provide cover fire?”

Obi-Wan looked at Baze, forehead furrowed. Then his shoulders twitched once. And then again, as the corner of his mouth turned up. Eventually a laugh cascaded out of him, rolling up from his belly and spilling out of his mouth. 

Baze watched Obi-Wan laugh. He barely knew the man, really, but he had a strong suspicion there weren’t many in the Jedi’s life that made him laugh like that. Baze was surprised to learn that he was still the sort of person who could make someone laugh. Or at least, make this person laugh. Obi-Wan glanced over at him as the laugh died down and something mischievous twinkled in his eyes. 

Obi-Wan tightened his grip, tugging Baze a couple of stumbling steps toward him. “You know, it seems a shame to stop at one night.”

Baze wasn’t aware, until that very moment, that the same sentence could feel both surprising and inevitable. He reached out with his free hand and ran it through Obi-Wan's hair. Obi-Wan’s eyes slipped half shut and he looked up at Baze through lidded eyes. 

Baze took another half-step closer. His hand traced down Obi-Wan’s neck. Obi-Wan inhaled, slowly. Baze's fingers stopped on another scar, small and almost silver, near the hollow of Obi-Wan's throat. 

Obi-Wan swallowed. “Poison dart. Ugly four hours before medical evac got to me.”

Baze pulled his hand back, kissed his fingers, and brushed against the mark again. Obi-Wan was holding very still, but the muscles in his neck twitched at the touch. 

Baze met Obi-Wan’s eyes and held his gaze. “I’m glad evac got to you in time.” 

Obi-Wan looked away first, glancing down at Baze’s arm. He reached up with his free hand and brushed against a rough patch of skin on Baze’s forearm. Baze didn’t bother to look down, preferring to read the emotions flickering across Obi-Wan’s face. “Lit candlestick. Someone got desperate at a dinner party.”

Moving slowly, Obi-Wan moved Baze's arm so he could brush a kiss against the mark. “I want to hear that story. I know you've more scars for me to discover. I'd like the chance to investigate them...thoroughly.” Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked back up to Baze’s again.

Baze licked his lips, tempted. Obi-Wan was still unfairly beautiful, and it was all too easy to get caught up in it. But Baze wasn’t the same man he had been in his twenties, months out from losing everything he knew and loneliness an aching black hole inside him. He took a step back, watching the Jedi closely.

“What are you hoping for?” Baze asked. “Because if you're wanting a repeat...I’m getting tired of fighting. Rough fuck sounds exhausting right now.” 

A look of exhaustion surfaced in Obi-Wan’s features, “I’m hardly the same person I was a decade ago, either. I wouldn’t mind something slower. I…”

Obi-Wan trailed off, standing up and opening his arms. His posture was an invitation, but he made no move to close the distance. “I’m alone, on a strange planet, trapped by a sandstorm and a Sith-forsaken invasion force. I have nothing I need to do and nowhere I need to be, which is an entirely unique experience since Genosis happened and this whole war began.” 

Obi-Wan gave Baze a frank once over, tiny grin on his face. “At the same time, I'm delighted to find out that the young man I enjoyed an evening with a very long time ago is here with me and has grown no less delightful over the years. I’d like to spend some more time with you. I'd prefer if we both were naked.” Obi-Wan’s smile fell, something wistful in his eyes. “It’d be nice to forget the war for a little while.” 

Baze sighed, and took one of Obi-Wan's outstretched arms. He cradled one hand between the two of his, bringing it up to his face and pressing a kiss to the palm. Obi-Wan swayed, and one of Baze's arms went around him to steady him, bare hand against warm skin. 

Baze had learned to live with loneliness. That didn’t mean he preferred it. “Okay.” 

They kissed, and it was so damn gentle Baze wanted to cry. It was warm and lingering and felt like home in a way nothing had in years. Baze poured himself into the kiss, the slow slide of affection and the building heat of anticipation. He pulled back, found Obi-Wan’s eyes had glazed over. 

“Come on,” Baze said, voice low. 

He pulled at Obi-Wan's hand, tugging him back to the bedroom. He stripped out of his clothes, shirt first, throwing it at Obi-Wan’s head. By the time the Jedi pulled the shirt off to glare at him, the rest of the clothes were nearly gone as well. 

“Ah,” Obi-Wan said, and it sounded appreciative. 

Baze turned back to the bed, climbing on with a little wiggle of his ass that he would deny until the end of time. He rolled over, laying back on the bed, hand behind his head and legs spread apart. “Alright, Obi-Wan, let’s see your detective skills.” 

Obi-Wan grinned as he shed what clothing was left and joined Baze. He gave Baze a considering once-over, fingertips brushing a scar on the underside of Baze’s arm. “So what happened here?” 

“Transport I was on was hit, unlucky bit of shrapnel.” 

Obi-Wan made a sympathetic noise, then leaned forward and brushed a kiss against the mark. His hands trailed down Baze’s chest, until he pressed his palm against Baze’s ribs while his thumb circled Baze’s nipple. “Here?” 

“Dagger.” Baze arched up under the touch. “Over-zealous suckup thought it would impress his boss. 

Another kiss was placed against the scar, followed by some attention to Baze’s chest that had him twisting. After an internal struggle, Baze decided to keep his hands pressed behind his head. He was curious where Obi-Wan would take this show. 

Obi-Wan pulled back, hand trailing down to the outside of Baze’s hip. “Here?” 

Baze struggled to get his breathing back under control. Voice a little shaky, he said, “I got into fight with the president of the Telgorn Corporation in his private garden. He was an easy target, his carnivorous flowers nearly did me in.” 

Obi-Wan chuckled. “You should be more careful.” He leaned down and kissed Baze’s hip, fingers holding the other one down as the kiss turned open mouthed and messy, edging down the hipbone. 

Baze groaned as Obi-Wan’s mouth trailed further in and further down, closer and closer to Baze’s cock, which rapidly growing hard against his stomach. Obi-Wan stopped a few inches away from it, pulling off. 

Baze didn’t whine, but it was close. Obi-wan, the bastard, chuckled, hand running down the outside of Baze’s hip and leg, finally curling around Baze’s knee, “Here?” he asked, fingertips stretching up to stroke at Baze’s inner thigh.

Baze shivered, leg muscles tensing. “Bad luck, a steep mountain side, and a sharp rock.” 

“I’m seeing,” Obi-Wan kissed Baze’s knee, “that landscape,” lips brushed the top of Baze’s thigh, “is your most dangerous,” Baze shivered as Obi-Wan’s tongue slid up his inner thigh, “foe.” Obi-Wan punctuated the sentence with a nip that drove Baze’s hips off the bed, yelping. 

“Fuck you,” Baze said, arms trembling with the effort of keeping them still. 

“Do we have the supplies for that?” Obi-Wan said with a grin, resting his chin on Baze’s thigh. 

Baze made a noise between a laugh and a groan.“I—I don’t know.” He took a steady breath in and out, trying to think through his arousal. “I didn’t stock the ship.” 

Obi-Wan ran his fingers over Baze’s thighs, pushing himself up. “I’ll go check, you stay here,” he said, voice teasing.

“No. That’s not what I want.” Baze swallowed. He knew what he wanted. Just had to make himself ask for it. It wasn’t always easy to put words to desire. “I want your mouth.” 

“Oh, do you?” Obi-Wan hauled his way back up Baze’s body, sliding himself along the length of Baze’s cock as he went. He settled with his hands on either side of Baze’s head, and lowered himself down for a kiss. 

Obi-Wan kissed him like they had weeks and months and years to enjoy each other. He kissed, tongue languidly exploring Baze’s mouth, hips leisurely rocking against Baze’s body. It wasn’t urgent, it wasn’t bruising, it was easy and intimate and breathtaking. 

When Obi-Wan finally pulled back Baze said, “Yes. That mouth. I’d like it on my cock.” 

Baze could feel Obi-Wan’s hands twist in the sheets next to him. “You haven’t become any less blunt.” 

“You like it.” 

Obi-Wan froze for a second, something complicated flicking over his face. Baze waited, giving him time to resolve whatever internal battle was going on. Finally Obi-Wan said, “Yes. I do.” 

Obi-Wan leaned back, considering Baze. Baze wanted to reach for Obi-Wan, but there was a certain appeal to keeping himself held back, to letting the Jedi take what liberties he wanted with Baze’s body. 

Obi-Wan seemed to come to a decision. He swung around, settling his legs on either side of Baze’s head, planting his hands on either side of Baze’s hips. His legs pinned Baze’s arms against the bed, and his cock hung in front of Baze’s mouth. “Okay?” asked Obi-Wan, looking down at Baze between their bodies. 

Baze flexed, testing the feeling in his arms. “Yeah, we’re good. Be careful with your hips. If you start choking me it’ll take me a minute to let you know.”

“You know, there are some advantages to fucking a Jedi.” Obi-Wan said. “I’ll know if you’re in distress before you will.” 

“Well that’s nice.” Baze thrust his hips towards Obi-Wan. “Enough talking, I can think of better uses for your mouth.” 

Obi-Wan tsked, “So needy.” Nevertheless, he turned back to Baze, sinking that infuriating mouth down over his cock. Baze groaned in relief. 

He let himself take a few moments and do nothing except enjoy Obi-Wan’ work. Baze had dreamed about Obi-Wan’s mouth since the first time Ben had grinned at him from across the table. The reality of it was even better than his anticipation. It seemed right to savor the moment. 

Still, Obi-Wan’s cock hung, enticing, over his head. Eventually, Baze gave into temptation and stretched up, taking it in his own mouth. 

The groan Obi-Wan made vibrated around Baze, and Baze almost came right then. 

It went quickly after that, Obi-Wan speeding up, rocking his whole body and moaning around Baze as his own cock slid in and out of Baze’s mouth. It was overwhelming, pleasure from Obi-Wan’s mouth fighting for attention with the sensuous heat along Baze’s tongue. Baze went from pleasure to pleasure, and his orgasm took him entirely off-guard, pulsing into Obi-Wan’s mouth without warning. Unfazed, Obi-Wan swallowed him down, never stopping his own rocking against Baze’s tongue. 

Baze ducked his chin out of the way, Obi-Wan’s cock falling out of his mouth. With a grunt he flexed his arms, cautioning Obi-Wan that he was about to move. 

Obi-Wan let out a soft whine when Baze pulled away, but rolled off of Baze with more grace than Baze had expected. He turned around and sat next to Baze, shivering slightly, erection still an angry red against his stomach. 

“You...alright?” Obi-Wan seemed to have trouble focusing, but his concern was obvious.

“Kriff,” said Baze, trying to get his brain to work again. “That doesn’t come near to what I’m feeling. I’m good.” He sat up rolling his shoulders and flexing his fingers, trying to make sure he hadn’t lost any feeling. “Wonderful. Magnificent.” He looked over at Obi-Wan. “Sorry. Caught me off guard.” 

Obi-Wan smiled. “Jedi, remember. I knew what I was doing. Speaking of which.” Obi-Wan shifted, and his hand crept closer to his own cock. “I’m going to...I’m close.” 

Baze grabbed the hand, pulling it away. “None of that. My turn.”

Obi-Wan twitched, straining against his grip. “Please, Reck, I need…”

“You’ll get it. I promise. But there’s some things I want to do first. ” Baze took hold of Obi-Wan’s shoulders, tugging and pushing until Obi-Wan was laid out on the bed under him. With lightest fingertips, Baze ran over his skin from sternum to navel, hip bones to collarbones, teasing touches that had Obi-Wan’s muscles jumping under his fingers. 

Obi-Wan was practically writhing against Baze, keen of desperation coming from his mouth. “Don’t tease me.” 

“This isn’t teasing, Obi-Wan. I promise. I’ll take care of you. But we have time. I’m using it.” 

At first, all Obi-Wan could manage was a whine. But after a beat, he managed, “Alright,” his breath still coming as a shaky in and out. 

Baze leaned over and kissed Obi-Wan, carefully angling his body to give Obi-Wan no relief. Then he ran his fingers along Obi-Wan’s collarbone, found the scar that had started this whole encounter. “What happened here?” 

Obi-Wan blinked, relaxing against the bed with a rough exhale as he seemed to pull himself out of the hazy lust that had taken him over. “That’s,” a breath, “that’s where my padawan, Anakin, and I ran into a nest of gundarks.”

Baze leaned forward to kiss the scar. “Nasty teeth on those.” Baze said, punctuating the point with his own. 

Obi-Wan groaned, and twisted impatiently under Baze. Baze nipped one more time at the scar, before moving on to find the next new mark. He found one just a few inches away, near Obi-Wan’s elbow. This was going to take a while. 

Baze grinned as he settled in. Time to teach the Jedi some patience.

* * *

“You’re a sadist,” Obi-Wan mumbled, face pressed up against Baze’s chest. 

Baze snorted. Obi-Wan’s beard tickled. “You loved it.” 

“Kept me right on the edge for hours.” 

“You have a lot of scars. And it was not even an hour.” 

“It certainly felt like an eternity.” 

“You really whining about good sex?” 

“....no.” 

“Good.”

“You’re still a sadist.” 

“Noted.” Baze wiggled his legs a more firmly between Obi-Wan’s. Obi-Wan responded by hugging Baze tighter, nuzzling his face against the corner of the shoulder he had settled into. 

Baze savored the moment. They were naked, lazy, and it seemed like neither of them had any intention of moving. 

Obi-Wan spoke, and it was more of a mumble to fill the silence than any particular request for information. “I’m glad you managed to keep yourself alive. It would have been a shame not to get this moment.” 

“Yeah,” Baze said. “Glad you’re alive too. And I’m guessing your padawan Anakin is the meaningful pause brother? Seems like you managed to keep him alive as well.” 

“Yes. Survived to both knighthood and adulthood. He’s...I’m proud of him.” 

“Do all Jedi get new parent panic over getting their first padawan?” 

Obi-Wan huffed against his chest. “No. Anakin was a special case. He was...older, when he came to the order. And I was very young. He would have benefitted from more experience, and in those early days, it showed.” 

“Seems like you managed alright.” 

Obi-Wan went quiet. “Largely. He’s still...he struggles. I wonder, if I had been better, would he struggle less?” 

Baze drummed his fingers against Obi-Wan’s bicep. “Never thought about the fact that not all Jedi are equal. There’s no shame in not being as strong as others, you know.”

Obi-Wan snorted. “ _Strength_ is not the issue. He might be the strongest of all of us, if he continues with his training. Bright and reckless and…” 

“Arrogant?” Baze finished. “I’ve known some like that.” 

“Yes, that’s a piece of it. Tempted, too. I’m not certain how much you know about the Force, but, in short, there’s a Light Side and a Dark Side. The Dark Side is strong, but destructive. I’ve watched him fight its influence for as long as he’s been with the order. It’s such a shame. If we had gotten him younger…” 

“That’s a hard thing to put on a child. Or a young man.” 

“It’s the truth.” 

Baze disagreed, but he kept it to himself. Or at least, he tried to. 

“What?” asked Obi-Wan. “You’re not seriously going to disagree with _me_ on the nuances of Jedi philosophy? I’m the one with the lightsaber.”

Baze grunted. “I said nothing.”

Obi-Wan pushed off of him. “You felt volumes.” 

Baze reached, trying to tug Obi-Wan back down. “Come on. I was enjoying the relaxing.”

Obi-Wan pulled back. “No. Explain what you meant, first.” His tone softened. “I’m curious, honestly.” 

Baze sighed, rolling to face Obi-Wan, but refusing to get up. “I’m not a good person to have this conversation with. I don’t really believe in all that anymore.”

“Well, you don’t believe in your temple, sure, but some things are rather difficult to deny.” Obi-Wan gestured, and Baze’s hand lifted up off the bed. It was an unnerving sensation, so close to the feeling of someone holding his hand in theirs, but without the warmth, the connection that made the movement make sense. Obi-Wan dropped his hand, and Baze’s hand flopped to the bed. 

Baze raised his eyebrows. “You ever fucked someone while holding them down with the Force?” 

Obi-Wan turned bright red. “...no.” 

“But you’ve thought about it.” Baze nudged his knee. “I’d be down to give it a shot. Would need to talk about it more, though.” 

Obi-Wan coughed, shaking his head. “Um. That’s not something I—” He cut himself off, gaze sharpening on Baze. “Hey. We were in the middle of a theological discussion. Stop trying to derail it with sex.”

“Killjoy.” Baze grumbled. “To answer your question...sure, you can do some nice tricks. I don’t see any reason that necessarily leads to an all-encompassing life-force that surrounds us and guides us, though.”

Obi-Wan’s shoulders tensed. “Tricks?” 

“Kriff, you’re vain.” Baze smiled to soften his words. “Impressive skills? That better?”

Obi-Wan relaxed, giving a rueful chuckle. “Vanity is not an unreasonable accusation. But the Force is _there_. It’s not imaginary.”

“That’s what you tell me. But I’ve never felt it. Empathy, telekinesis, there’s always one species or another that has skills like that come standard.” 

“But...that’s not the most reasonable explanation.” 

“But it is _an_ explanation. Like I said, I’m not the best person. I walked away from faith.” Baze rolled back over onto his back, hand tucked behind his head. “Even before that, though…the temple taught something very different from the council, and the temple makes a lot more sense.”

“What did the temple teach?” 

Baze blinked against the sudden nostalgia that rose as he tried to pull together old childhood teachings. “The Force is present, always. We are one with the Force, the Force is one with us. Where there is calm, there is the Force. Where there is passion, there is the Force. Where there is joy, sadness, anger, peace, the Force chains all together.” 

Baze twitched, and tried to paraphrase the doctrine he had spent his entire childhood surrounded by. “The Force ties it all together, but it’s not pulling one way or the other. There’s not a different Side, if you go to it in anger, or in joy. It’s not changed by us. It’s only our relationship to it that changes. And any relationship can be managed if you pay attention and aren’t an idiot.” 

Obi-Wan hummed. “I can see how that would work for those who didn’t have the power the Jedi do. With the gifts we’re given, though...we have to be more careful. The Dark Side is real. I defeated a Sith. It killed my Master. Those who give themselves over to the Dark Side are capable of unparalleled destruction.”

“I’m not saying people can’t be bastards, and, yeah, the stronger you are, the more destructive you can be. Believe me. I’ve spent the last decade killing people with a great deal of power and no morals. But...that doesn’t mean your lots rules for right and wrong are the be-all end-all of the discussion. It’s too rigid.” 

“It’s needed. The council has seen the Jedi Order safely through for thousands of years. They understand what is needed to keep the order safe, and in the side of the Light.” 

“Doesn't mean they’re infallible. Jedi or not, it’s still made up of people.” 

“Wise people. Their wisdom should be heeded.”

“Is that right, _General_ Kenobi?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“General’s a military rank. Jedi are supposed to be spiritual teachers. Get those two mixed up…” 

“It’s temporary. Just until the Separatist force is put down.” 

“No way the Republic’s going to be okay with losing your firepower, even if the war ends.”

“Then I suppose you should be very happy for the Jedi Code. It will prevent us from being drawn into an inappropriate role.” 

“It hasn’t so far.” Baze almost snarled out the words. 

Obi-Wan looked taken aback, for once not having a quick response. 

Baze held up his hands and took a deep breath in and out. “Sorry, I’m not sure how we got so far down this. I like you. But I broke free from my own temple, and it made more sense than the punishing rules you all have. I‘m not here to be convinced. But I shouldn’t be trying to convince you, either. It’s clearly important to you, and I apologize for any disrespect.” 

“No.” Obi-Wan relaxed. “My apologies. I did push you to speak. You have a unique view, though, and I appreciate it. I still think you’re wrong…”

“Feeling’s mutual.”

Obi-Wan smiled, stretching back out next to Baze. He still seemed comfortable around Baze, which was a relief, considering they disagreed on religion _and_ politics, all in one. 

“Agree to disagree. But I imagine that makes it more difficult to understand my worries for Anakin.” 

“No. He’s talented and young and headstrong. Dangerous combination no matter what sort of power you’re packing.”

“I just hope I managed to teach him well enough.” 

Baze reached over, taking Obi-Wan’s hand, thumb running slowly over his knuckles. “You know, kid doesn't stop needing their...brother when they're grown. You can still guide him.”

“I know.” Obi-Wan turned his face toward Baze. “It's an idle worry, mostly. I don't actually believe I'll lose him to the Dark Side. He's got too much Light in him.”

Baze smiled over at Obi-Wan, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose. “That's good.”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan sighed. “I should stop worrying. Fear is another step along the path to the Dark Side.”

Baze propped himself up on one arm, looking down at Obi-Wan. “I still think this all-or-nothing thinking is the source of most of the trouble you're having. But if it helps…” Baze ran his hand along Obi-Wan's cheek, making certain Obi-Wan was facing him. “You call me. If he goes too far. I'll do what needs doing.”

Obi-Wan froze, looking carefully over at Baze. “You don’t mean…” 

“I do. If it gets that bad. You have options.” 

Obi-Wan held himself apart from Baze, for the first time Baze saw in his form the rather sensible fear that most people had when they realized what he did for a living. It hurt to see it. But there was no point in hiding who he was.

Obi-Wan shook his head, slowly. “I appreciate the offer. But if it comes to that...I'll do it myself.” 

“Never hurts to have backup. I’m here for you. That’s all I’m saying.” Baze reached over, slowly choreographing his movement, and brushed hair out from Obi-Wan’s face. 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and relaxed. “Here for me even though you disagree with my code?” 

“Order’s different from the person. I think the Jedi have done a number on you. At the same time...I like you, Obi-Wan. I may not trust your order, and I definitely don’t trust its hard lines, but I do trust you. If you say something needs doing, I’ll be there.” 

Obi-Wan smiled, and it was more than a little sad. “I...I was raised in the temple. Its teachings have been apart of my life for as long as I can remember. I’m not certain I can ever explain just how ingrained that is.”

Baze sat up in bed, curling his legs until he rested cross-legged, forearms against his thighs. He shared his own sad smile with Obi-Wan. “I was four. I think I understand a thing or two about your experience.” 

“Really. I didn’t realize any other temples took children so young.” 

“Parents couldn’t feed me. Or didn’t want me. I’m still not sure which. They never visited, after they dropped me off.” 

Obi-Wan made a sad noise. 

Baze shook his head, waving Obi-Wan off. “It’s not a problem. Temple was my family. And it was a good one. Loved me, trained me, kept me fed and clothed. Let me meet my best friend.” 

“Ah. Is that _your_ meaningful pause brother?” 

Baze looked away, happier memories filling him. He looked down at Obi-Wan, certain that the nostalgic longing was written clear on his face, and even clearer through his emotions. No point in trying to hide it. “My husband.” 

Obi-Wan coughed. “Oh. _Oh_. So you went back, then. Is this...a problem? I wouldn’t have come onto you if I—”

Baze tipped back down onto the bed, mattress protesting at the movement. He rolled over, curling toward Obi-Wan. “No. I haven’t been back. I was married the first time you rolled me over. Known him since I was four, loved him just about as long. Together at sixteen, married at eighteen...left at twenty-two.” 

A long silence held between them and Baze felt old emotion welling up behind his eyes. He rolled to his back, pressing his palms against his face. “Kriff. I can’t believe how much life I’ve lived without him. I miss him.” 

From next to him, Obi-Wan stumbled through some concerned noises, finally setting on, “I’m sorry,” and a hand at his elbow. 

Baze pulled his hands back, looking over at Obi-Wan, his smile watery. “No, I’m sorry. This is terrible bedroom etiquette.” 

Obi-Wan looked down at him, and Baze suddenly understood why the Jedi were venerated. He looked like he had known Baze’s soul, judged his worth, and found him precious. “I think it’s time the two of us stop pretending that we’re any good at one night stands.” 

Baze laughed, thick through the emotion. “I appreciate the grace.” 

Obi-Wan scooted closer to him, brushing his hands over Baze’s cheeks, clearing away the tears. “Reck,” Obi-Wan said softly, “what are you still doing out here?”

Baze shook his head. “When I left, it was bad. I’m not welcome back there. I know it. I’ve been away too long, now. I need to move on.” 

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Ten years is long enough to get over someone. If you were going to. You still call him your husband. It’s pretty clear where your heart lives.” 

Baze swallowed. “I’d go back if I could. But I wouldn’t be welcome.” 

“Have you tried?” Obi-Wan pushed. “Ten years is also long enough to soothe old hurts. Reck. There’s a war on.” 

“I know that.” 

“You should be with him. Now. The galaxy is tearing itself apart. If something happens and you don’t see him again…”

Baze flinched away from Obi-Wan’s words. Obi-Wan drew him back. “Exactly. Exactly. Look at me. You can’t even think about it.” 

“Why do you care?” Baze’s voice had gone all rough. 

“I suppose it’s like you said. I like you. And you are...so clearly his. I don’t even know him and I know that.” 

Baze reached out, wrapping his hand around the back of Obi-Wan’s neck. He pulled Obi-Wan down for a kiss, trying to express some fraction of the feeling he couldn’t find words for. “Listen,” Baze said, an urgency to his words he didn’t quite understand. “I know I told you once that you remind me of him. But this. You and me? It’s always been you here. Not him.” 

“I know.” 

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

“You barely know me,” Obi-Wan said, voice a little fragile. 

Baze snorted. “We both know that’s not true. Haven’t spent much _time_ with you, but I know you damn well.” 

“Well,” Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and Baze caught a bit of wetness at their corners. “That goes both ways. I know you. And I know you don’t belong out here in the middle of a war with a sniper rifle. You’ve got a home. You should go back to it.” 

Baze pulled Obi-Wan down again, pressing their foreheads together, thumb tracing the fragile skin at the corner of his jaw. “I’ll think on it.” 

“You do that.” Obi-Wan said, face so close his eyes merged and he looked more Abyssin than human. “You...I know you think very little of our code, but we say we have to hold ourselves apart so that we may be impartial. But that’s not how we expect the universe to live. You have something magnificent and the freedom to chase it. Don’t take that for granted. Keep it safe.” 

Obi-Wan’s voice...Baze would say it was filled with longing. He sounded wistful. He sounded lonely. Baze moved closer, kissing Obi-Wan again, lips gentle against his. “If you wanted to be kept...I’d keep you too.” 

“Fairly certain the world doesn’t work like that,” Obi-Wan murmured against him. “Not for me.”

Baze settled back down on the bed, tugging Obi-Wan down to his chest again. “Thought you should know. You’re worth keeping.” 

Obi-Wan was stiff against Baze for a second, before slowly softening against him, settling down in the bed and twining their legs together. He didn’t say anything, and there was an odd tension to his hands as he stroked at Baze’s chest. 

Baze didn’t interrogate that tension too closely. He couldn’t. Sleep threatened at the corners of his mind, and he drifted off slowly, Obi-Wan a comfortable warmth at his side as he embraced the black.

* * *

* * *

The memory grew confusing as Baze experienced the entirely unique sensation of remembering...not remembering. He had woken up the next morning with the vague sense that he had slept with _somebody_ , but it felt distant, not important. What felt important was Jedha. His home. 

Why had he let himself stay away for so long? 

He struggled to keep the details of the mission he was on in his mind. It faded in significance by the second. Overwhelming his mind was the fact that he had to go home. He’d figure things out when he got there. See if Chirrut would take him back. See if there was a place for him, in the place he loved most. Even if Jedha and Chirrut didn’t love him anymore, it was still worth going back. He’d see them safely through the war if he could. 

He had packed the freighter and left the planet, setting a course for Jedha.

Back in the present, Baze looked over at Obi-Wan, who looked sick. “You made me forget.” 

“Baze. _Reck_. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have, I swear I didn’t know until right now, or I would have undone it sooner.” Obi-Wan’s body was curling into the fetal position, self-hatred etched across his face. 

Baze reached for Obi-Wan, only to have him shy away. “I let fear rule me and that was wrong, I gave in to the very thing I told you I needed to avoid...” Obi-Wan spoke in quick pleading whispers, a babble of panic. Finally, something seemed to resolve, and he shifted, sitting up, legs swinging over the edge of the bed. “I know. There’s no excuse. I’ll go. You can...talk things over with Chirrut. I’ll stay away—”

Baze grabbed Obi-Wan’s shoulder and pushed, shoving the man back down on the bed. Obi-Wan looked up at Baze, fearful and resigned, all at the same time. 

“You sent me back to Jedha.” 

“Yes.” Obi-Wan’s face hardened into tense lines. “Only because you already wanted to go. I took what was in there and made it stronger, dampened down some of the fear.” His face broke out of its stern lines, crumpling again and looking to the side. “As if that makes it better. I’m so sorry.”

“You helped me go back,” Baze said again, voice rough.

Obi-Wan refused to look at him. “I manipulated you into—” 

Baze moved his body over Obi-Wan’s, straddling him before grabbing his face between his hands. “You brought us back together. You gave me Chirrut back.” Obi-wan shivered, meeting his eyes. Baze continued, his voice breaking as he spoke, “I will never _ever_ be able to thank you enough.”

Obi-Wan’s head shook in disbelief under Baze’s hands. “You should hate me.” 

Baze let go of Obi-Wan’s chin, slid his hand back down to cradle Obi-Wan’s, and, finally realizing why the gesture felt so familiar, pressed a kiss against the palm. “Read me, Jedi. Nothing but gratitude here.” 

Obi-Wan looked poleaxed. Baze looked down on him and wanted, like he had was he was twenty, like he had when he was thirty. 

Some of that may have bled through, because suddenly Obi-Wan groaned, reaching up and pulling Baze down. Baze went easily, pressed himself against Obi-Wan, blanketing the Jedi with his body. Obi-Wan’s hand remained insistent, dragging Baze down to his mouth, and they kissed. 

They had both changed with the years, but their lips still fit together. Obi-Wan arched into the kiss, and Baze’s hands found they knew where to settle, where to stroke. 

Baze knew Obi-Wan like the lake knew skipping stones. Briefly together, quickly parting, and the ripples from their glancing touches had shaped the flow of his life.

“Guess this explains why I liked you so much.” Baze said, pulling back to run his hands over Obi-Wan’s face, finding the younger man’s features underneath the weathering from the years. 

Obi-Wan laughed, relief pouring out. “It’s so obvious now. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you.” 

Baze pulled back, his tone teasing. “Yeah. Jedi. Thought I was memorable. I have a good excuse. Why didn’t you remember me?” 

“Well _Reck_ , there’s the small matter of the fact that I never knew your real name. You never actually told me your temple was the Jedhan Temple of the Kyber. And you have hair now.” 

“Had hair before.” 

“Not this much of it.” Obi-Wan reached up, running his fingers through Baze’s hair. “And not on your face. And to be fair, you did throw your very distracting husband at me.”

Baze grunted. “Fair. Chirrut’s incandescent. Can’t blame you for missing me in the shadows.” 

Obi-Wan made a considering noise. “Should I be worried you didn’t want to make a run on me yourself? I’d hate to think I’d lost my appeal over the years.” 

Baze leaned down, nuzzling against Obi-Wan’s neck. “Still appealing. But the two of you were already circling each other. You were either going to fuck or fight, and I knew which one I wanted it to be. And you were having enough trouble letting one person in. Didn’t want to complicate things.”

“Probably for the best. I wasn’t doing particularly well, mentally. I’m not certain how I would have handled a two-pronged attack.” 

“Badly,” Baze said without hesitation. Obi-Wan batted his arm, tsking. Baze stole a quick kiss. “You were so sad, Obi-Wan. Chirrut’s joy incarnate. Didn’t matter why you were so lost, I knew he’d be good for you.”

Obi-Wan winced, eyes sliding shut. “It suddenly occurs to me that you know exactly why I’m sad.” 

Baze grunted. “I hoped I didn’t. Anakin is Luke and Leia’s father, isn’t he? Didn’t make it out of the war.” 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan sighed, looking away, “and no. You’ll figure that out too, no doubt.” 

Baze sighed. He reached out, spreading a palm across Obi-Wan’s chest. “I was wrong about the Dark Side, I take it?” 

The devastation that Obi-Wan always seemed to carry with him crawled its way to the surface. “Baze, do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought back to that conversation? Wondered if I should have listened to you, sent Anakin to you for wisdom.” Obi-Wan’s voice broke. “He fell, and I tried to do what needed to be done. But I should have kept track of you. You would have made certain Anakin stayed down.” 

“He’s still out there?” 

“Yes. The twins are in terrible danger, because I couldn’t kill a monster.”

“The child you raised. Your brother. I didn’t offer because you couldn’t, Obi-Wan. I offered because you shouldn’t have to.” Baze leaned forward, rested his head close to Obi-Wan’s ear. He whispered next to it, voice fierce, “Next time you don’t face him alone. And we’ll put the bastard down for good.”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan said, and twisted, capturing Baze’s mouth in a sudden kiss. There was teeth dragging along Baze’s lower lip, there was a tongue in his mouth, there were legs wrapping around him. Baze, who had been half-hard but ignoring the fact in favor of dealing with the life-defining revelations, suddenly found his arousal pushed the the forefront of the proceedings. 

“We doing this?” Baze asked, rolling his hips and dragging his erection along the crease in Obi-Wan’s hip. 

“Yes,” was all Obi-Wan said before attacking him again. 

It felt like only seconds had passed before Baze was rock hard and in danger of climaxing. He gasped against Obi-Wan, who was relentless, determined to overwhelm as he assaulted skin and writhed underneath Baze’s body. Baze groaned against him, pleasure growing more and more urgent as his cock slid along skin. 

Then, even as Obi-Wan’s hands dug into the muscles at the base of his back, urging him onward, there were hands at his head, guiding his face up and away from Obi-Wan. Baze distantly realized, as he saw Chirrut, that he should probably stop thrusting against Obi-Wan and they should all sit down and talk about this. But Chirrut pulled him into a wicked kiss, Baze heard Obi-Wan moan underneath him, then Chirrut was pulling back and saying, “Come for us, Darling.” 

And Baze had never been able to deny Chirrut. Baze spilled out with a groan, following Chirrut’s guiding to keep from collapsing on top of Obi-Wan. After a second Chirrut clamored over him, cuddled up against Baze’s front, and proceeded to lean forward and go down on Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan, caught off guard, didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, one wound up resting on Chirrut’s shoulder, the other tangled in the sheets between him and Baze. Baze reached over and took his hand, and Obi-Wan looked over at him, lazy smile on his face. 

Kriff. That smile hadn’t gotten any less potent over the years. Baze took a moment to curse himself for falling for passionate men with supernova smiles. 

The smile gradually faded, replaced with the stupid look of slack pleasure that tended to happen whenever Chirrut gave someone a blowjob. Eventually he came, stilling in Chirrut's mouth. His hand clenched around Baze’s, pulling it tight against his chest. Baze pressed down, a reassuring weight against his skin. 

Chirrut pulled off of Obi-Wan and reached for Baze, stopping just short of kissing him. Breath gusting against Baze’s lips, Chirrut said, “You, Sir, are rude. What were you thinking, seducing Obi-Wan without me?” 

Baze snorted. “You have no idea.” Before Chirrut could interrogate exactly what Baze meant by that, Baze leaned forward and kissed him. He made it a good kiss, the sort of kiss you can only manage when you know someone’s body through years. As he finished, he pulled back and said, “But I don’t want you to feel left out.” 

Moving quickly, he grabbed Chirrut’s arms, twisting Chirrut’s torso so his back was flush against Baze’s chest. Chirrut’s arms were locked back along Baze’s side. Chirrut kicked out with his feet, but Baze countered, legs went up and over around Chirrut’s thighs, prying them apart. Chirrut wiggled, but the hold was good, and he was splayed out along Baze’s front. Of course, there was nothing Baze could do to take advantage of the open posture without releasing his hold. Fortunately, that wasn’t the point. 

“Obi-Wan, would you?” 

“Ah, Baze, you get me the most delightful presents.” Obi-Wan grinned, pushed up off the bed, and started prowling his way toward Chirrut. Chirrut squirmed in the hold, and Obi-Wan paused. “Are you okay?” 

Chirrut melted against Baze, and Baze could hear the smile in his voice. “Oh, I’m very good. Don’t worry. We’ve been doing this for years. Baze knows how to hold me, and he knows what it sounds like if something’s wrong.” 

“I’ll leave you in Master Malbus’s capable hands, then.” Obi-Wan said, and proceeded to take Chirrut apart. 

Baze focused on keeping Chirrut pinned and trusting his other partner to handle the pleasure. He occasionally nipped at Chirrut’s neck, to keep things interesting, but largely listened to Obi-Wan work. Chirrut was reduced to gasping and whining, and at one point shouting loud enough that Baze hoped they didn’t have any next-door neighbors. As things progressed, Obi-Wan managed to get Chirrut to make the panting keen he only made when he was entirely lost in sensations.

Baze felt something in him relax, as he realized just how much he trusted them with each other. This was good. It felt right. 

Eventually, Chirrut stuttered a quick “fuckfuckfuck” and arched against Baze. Baze started to relax his hold, but Chirrut pressed back against him. Baze tightened the hold instead, and Chirrut gasped and came. Baze kept him held as he came down, Obi-Wan cuddled up against Chirrut’s front. 

Eventually, Chirrut tugged at Baze’s arms, and Baze released the hold. Rolling his shoulders, but still staying happily pinned between Baze and Obi-Wan, Chirrut said, “Well, that was a delightful treat. When I fell asleep I did not expect to find my husband and my lover dry-humping each other in the bed next to me. And I definitely did not expect them to gang up on me.” Chirrut twisted and pressed a kiss against Baze’s neck. “It was wonderful. I’m glad you’re comfortable around each other. I love you both.” 

Baze felt Chirrut tense after that, swallowing hard. Chirrut looked at Obi-Wan, who was still in the vaguely confused stage of hearing the words, then over to Baze. 

Baze and Chirrut had never been finicky about monogamy. They both had other lovers. Hadn’t had any other loves, though. Until now. It was beautifully obvious that Obi-Wan was different. With what he hoped was a reassuring expression on his face, Baze said, “I know.” 

Chirrut relaxed a hair, turning back to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was looking over to the side, slightly pink. Chirrut laid a hand along Obi-Wan’s jaw, turning his head to face Chirrut. “I’m sorry for springing it on you in company. But it’s true. Take your time, I don’t expect you to—”

Obi-Wan leaned forward, kissing Chirrut. He pulled back and said, “I love you.” 

Baze felt Chirrut’s happy hum rumble through him, as Chirrut surged forward and dragged Obi-Wan back into a kiss. 

As the kiss died down, Obi-Wan looked past Chirrut to Baze, a complicated expression crossing his face. Obi-Wan inhaled slowly, and leaned over Chirrut to kiss Baze. It was gentle, and there was a sense of anticipation in it. He pulled back, looking serious. “And I love you.” 

Chirrut made a soft, startled noise. Baze curled against Chirrut, wrapping his arms around his torso and resting his chin on Chirrut’s shoulders. “Love you too,” he said, looking straight at Obi-Wan. 

Obi-Wan smiled and it looked like pure hope. 

“What _happened_ while I was asleep?” Chirrut asked, tipping back against Baze. “I know I wasn’t out that long.”

“I’ll tell you later,” Baze said. “It’s a long story, though, and I want to talk to Obi-Wan first.” 

Chirrut huffed, but he settled. “Fine. Promise you’ll tell?”

“Promise. But I am too tired right now, I just want to get to _sleep_.” 

Chirrut yawned expansively. “Sounds fair. I’m taking the middle.” 

“No, you’re not. Obi-Wan hasn’t been trained on your elbows yet.”

“No time like the present,” Chirrut said, settling down in the middle of the bed.

Baze shoved him over to the right. “We’re going to let the man have one good night before we make him miserable.” 

“He wouldn’t be _miserable_. He,” Chirrut was interrupted by a yawn, “loves us.” 

Baze settled in the middle. “I got that.” 

A soft snore was all he heard from his right. 

“I am so jealous of his ability to do that,” Obi-Wan said, with feeling.

“Yep.” Baze stretched out, opening his arms for Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan rolled into their circle.

They drifted for long moments, until Baze snorted as something occurred to him. “You told Chirrut you weren’t one for casual sex. ‘Sex and intimacy go together.’ Liar. You had me naked less than an hour after you met me.”

“How do you think I figured that out, Baze?” Obi-Wan kissed Baze’s chest. “You, Sir, have been around for almost the entirety of my attempts at noncommittal sexual encounters. And how did that go for me?” 

Obi-Wan hmmed expectantly. “Let’s review. At the end of the first you had already teased out my deepest fears and by the end of the second you nearly proposed. I tried to be casual with you and wound up nearly drowning in attachment.”

Baze chuckled. “And that’s never been an easy thing for you.”

“No. It’s why I left. And when I’m being honest with myself, it’s why I made you forget me.” Obi-Wan swallowed. “Oh, certainly, I had my reasons. You were interrupting my mission. I wanted to keep you out of my enemies hands. You had sensitive information about both me and my former Padawan. But that’s all excuses. In truth, you terrified me.” 

“Do I still?” Baze asked. 

“No.” Obi-Wan pointedly snuggled in closer. “Or at least, it’s the reasonable sort of terror that comes along with loving someone.” 

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Baze said, softly.

“Baze. You know me better and have known me longer than almost anyone else in my life. Besides.” Obi-Wan swallowed. “It’s true, and I’m working on my self-awareness.”

“Good. You do that. Am I going to remember this all happened tomorrow?” 

Obi-Wan filled his voice with false melodrama. “You’ll never know if you don’t.” 

Baze gave him a light thwack to the back of his head. Obi-Wan giggled. Honestly giggled. Baze couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He ran his hand up and down Obi-Wan’s side. “So, you actually going to be here in the morning?” 

Obi-Wan smiled, settling down alongside Baze. “Yes. Barring some sort of emergency.” 

“Good,” Baze said, tugging Obi-Wan closer. “It’s about time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Man, this fic just got bigger and bigger. "I should write Baze and Obi-Wan!" "I should give them a history!" "I should give them an ongoing history that ties to both their personal narratives in complex ways and..." 
> 
> But hey. Here we are. I have an unreasonable amount of love for how these three work together. If anyone reads this and decides to write their own version of Obi-Wan/Chirrut/Baze, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. You can find me [on Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sassysnowperson), or drop a comment here.


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